We Are Hunters
by The Smiling Shadow
Summary: From the Matrix Comics, there are hunters outside of Zion. Collectors of ruins, Archeologists. But they hunt. They protect themselves, wielding only spears, they hunt Sentinels. No more running...


We Are Hunters  
  
No more running.  
  
I can see it now. There in the distance, just above that debris. I turn to my right, and I see Chase moving with Blinks. To my left I can see Ashiri, and Locus. And there, walking out into the open is, Nova.  
  
I grin.  
  
I grab my pole, and prepare to run. Silence is the only sound now, that and the wind. The gray sky now looks down upon us. Now we hunt.  
  
The Sentinel turns, and flies towards Nova, not noticing us. Nova stands unfazed, she has done this many times before, and will for the rest of her life. I know that. I believe that. And I will do it as well. Seconds pass, and times slows down. The Sentinel's tentacle arms flying in the wind in a pattern. I can hear it coming, and I see it through the wreckage.  
  
Nova raises her spear, and waits another second. The Sentinel comes flying down, like a demon with red eyes. And we attack our prey.  
  
Nova jumps with the power just like inside the Matrix, almost defying the laws of gravity. Though, we have defied many other laws. Many say, back home, back at Zion, that this is suicide. It is said that you don't fight Sentinels, you run from them, you hid. But not us. We'll never hide again.  
  
And as the Sentinels looks up at Nova with her spear set on him, we emerge from the ground. We join the killing. We shouldn't win this battle over such a beast. We know how this battle is supposed to end. But we cannot turn away.  
  
Little, small Locus stays afar, throwing his spears to the Sentinel's eyes, breaking one apart. Nova lands on top of the beast, and begins to break its head. While Chase jumps betweens its arms, throwing spears into it's back, stopping arms from moving. Blinks is blocking remaining arms from striking Nova. And me. I distract the monster, and am feet from its face and red eyes. I jump as it tries to hit me with an arm, and land on top of another arm. I can see it now, it is panicking, too many all at the same time. And as it raises itself to stand on its arms, it looms over me, shaking, trying to get Nova and Blinks off. It still looks at me, and with its small blade arms underneath it, it threatens me. I stand beneath it, and stab my spear right into the bottom.  
  
It must be clear now. It would be to anyone who watches. This is not some crazed revenge over these machines that have killed us. We have been planning this for weeks now. It is calculated, planned. It is a surgery, and a dance. Ballet with a killing machine.  
  
I don't know if machines can feel fear. Rumors have said that a program in the Matrix has felt fear, and anger. Rumors that it is an Agent. But are programs and machines different? As I stand now inches from this machine's face, and red eyes. I cannot tell if it is afraid. If it does not want to die. But it moves like an animal clinging to life. And it seems like it is shocked that we are about to kill it. And I am happy I will be the last thing it sees.  
  
Nova pierces its metal head, and rips at the wires. The machine begins shaking like mad. I grab my spear from its skin, and we begin to run. Nova and Blinks jump, and we all scatter. As we can hear electricity firing inside the Sentinel. We run now, because we know. Sentinels don't die, they malfunction.  
  
We take cover, and put our arms up to shield our eyes. Then there is a white flash, and all that is left of that machine are small pieces.  
  
And now against all reason, we live.  
  
We look out into the open space where the Sentinel once stood. Our masters, our caretakers, our keepers, and our killers. We now kill them.  
  
"No more running." Is what he said.  
  
Flint said that a long time ago, or as we like to call him, Ahab.  
  
Flint he was the first of us. First of us hunters, the man that has awed us all. His legend now lives in us, and in Zion. Flint was a collector, he collected relics from our past. But Flint knew there was something more outside Zion's boundaries. More could be learned passed Zion. They said he was mad. He and the ship, Pequod came here. Here to the surface, where our great buildings now rot on the ground. He came here, searching for more. Searching for the thousand years of our past that we do not know of. He found so much. But a Sentinel found them. He watched as everyone around him was ripped to shreds. Only he survived. He took Nova back with him again. He turned to her, and said no more running. He died trying to kill that Sentinel. Nova believes he wanted to die there. She believes a lot of things. In his memory, she went after the same Sentinels. And where Flint failed, she succeeded. She killed a Sentinel, and gave graves for Flint and the Pequod. We go to those graves often.  
  
News spread to Zion as quickly as when Trinity killed the first Agent, and Neo was found. They said even Neo was impressed.  
  
Nova returned to Zion, giving news of Flint, and his legend. Then Nova left. And we came with her. We stay in the remaining buildings, collecting, and hunting. Sometimes we go to the Pequod. We only have one small EMP, and a lighting gun. Our other weapons, are our spears.  
  
We are hunters.  
  
We hunt the hunters. It is like it was millions of years ago. When Man first evolved. We went from prey, to hunters. So just like before, we do it again. We turn the tables. We will not lose.  
  
My name is Chara.  
  
And as I sit here, on top of previous prey's head. I hold in my hand my food, my dinner. The oatmeal I've eaten for five years. It seems to get better with every kill. I smile, with my weapon between my arms. My broken, torn cloak, is caught with an edge from the wreckage. The buckles that cover my arms and legs are coming undone. I'll have to redo them tonight. Locus is collecting Sentinel parts, and trying to make something out of them. Nova is out, scouting for more Sentinels. Blinks and Chase sit on the table. Ashiri on another piece of debris next to me. We're here in a fallen skyscraper, doing the impossible. We're living on the surface, just as it should be.  
  
It is a quiet life, we still keep in contact with Zion. They check every week to see if we're dead yet. I smile every time I see Commander Locke's astonished face. We go back to Zion sometimes. To rest, to eat, to be with others, to get supplies, things like that. We often find things in the debris. Things form the past. We've found earlier versions of APUs, most like used at the beginning of the war, when we were still free. We found old Android parts, and earlier Sentinel prototypes. Even statues of people we have no idea are. We are pretty sure this is New York, or Los Angeles. Maybe Detroit. Or Yokohama. One can always here the lighting of the clouds, and it's always dark. But that's just the way I like it. One could go on for miles, and not find any water. I don't think the oceans have survived these years. We read books we find, and Locus is such a bookworm. I smile as I look at them all.  
  
We've been here for a long time, around half a year. And we live by Flint's words. No more running.  
  
I guess Flint was sort of like the Surface's Neo. I mean, Neo stopped running from Agents. I smile. Flint stopped.  
  
"Why do you carry your weapon with you, Chara?" Chase asked.  
  
I lose my train of thought and turn to him.  
  
"What?" I ask.  
  
"Your weapon." Ashiri repeats.  
  
"Oh, uh. . ." I begin.  
  
I look down at my weapon, my spear.  
  
"You carry it with you all the time." Chase continues.  
  
There are scratches on my weapon, and one can barely see their reflection in the steal. My blood stains some of it, and so does the blood of Sentinels, oil I guess. But I carry it because. . . Because. . .  
  
"I don't know." I reply.  
  
"People say I'm weird." Locus mumbles.  
  
"Shut up, bug boy." I say.  
  
Everyone laughs, and I finish my meal.  
  
I jump down, and start walking out the door.  
  
"Where are you going?" Blinks asks.  
  
I put my weapon behind my back, and casually walk out.  
  
"To get some air." I reply.  
  
To be truthful, the air on the surface is not that great. There are no trees, and Zion relies on air machines. So do we, though the open space has poisoned the air. It's foggy today, as I walk, my weapon in my right hand.  
  
And now I walk where no human has for hundreds of years. Around me old metals that stack up high. Remnants of both machine and man. Bone twisted into metal from the battles gone past. Buildings and skyscrapers that still stand, while others have fallen. Structures breaking down, but still holding on, just as humanity itself. A forgotten city, useless to the eye of the machine, but a lost home to me. Somehow I know, there once were people here, walking freely, born free, and laughing. Somehow I know that will happen again. I believe it. There is history of war here. But also history of cities, and happiness. Things that we are fighting for. You forget after a while in the Matrix. But one cannot really know, if all that stuff in the Matrix is what really happened. But here. We know, it is right in front of us. One could touch it, and it is real. Here is our true home. A forgotten home.  
  
It is enough to make someone burst into tears, or stand tall, ready for battle. But it is also the perfect hunting range.  
  
Many machines pass by here. More and more have come, because we are making our presence known. Sometimes Sentinels, sometimes Carriers. It doesn't matter, we always kill them. Soulless machines that show no mercy, deserve no mercy.  
  
We are hunters. We hunt. We hunt machines.  
  
And now I look up to see the shattered sky, man so desperate, to destroy his own world. As the saying goes. I had to destroy the village to save it. I had to kill her to save her. I had to. We had to.  
  
But now I see, Nova standing high above me, on a leaning tower.  
  
"Nova!" I call.  
  
She doesn't move, and I begin to climb up to her.  
  
She still doesn't look at me, and stares into nothing. I look on into the horizon, the sky filled with clouds and lightning. There is no day anymore, only storms. I see nothing, but Nova still stares.  
  
"Nova?" I ask.  
  
"Something is wrong." Nova said.  
  
"What?"  
  
She takes a moment to reply.  
  
"The machines. . . they're. . . they're up to something." Nova finally said.  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"They're not that many anymore, they're somewhere else."  
  
"Somewhere else?"  
  
Two months later Zion calls for us to aid them in what could be our final battle. The machines were digging, and the hunters returned to Zion for the ultimate hunt.  
  
I believed in Neo, I believed in The One. My mother used to tell me stories about The One when I was just unplugged, and little. She used to tell me so many stories.  
  
I've never heard such a noise, never seen such destruction, never felt so much pain. We were fighting a battle that could not be won. But we still fought. There were so many Sentinels. All hovering, and roaring as one, destroying our defenses. I remember hearing Locus screaming, and running to get an A.P.U. I don't know what happened to the others, they were lost in the battles.  
  
I remember seeing Nova jump like she always did. It was like watching a human with wings, an Angel fight the demons. I remember standing there, with the Sentinels falling. I remember telling myself to keep going, whispering to myself again and again, "The One is coming, The One is coming. . ." I don't know if I just said that to make me feel better, to make me go on, but it helped. I killed thirty-two Sentinels with only my hands and weapon. I wanted to keep going, keep fighting. Defend my home, protect my home. Keep us alive, keep us breathing. I wanted to see the sky. I wanted to live without a war, and fear walking on the surface. I wanted to live in my home, and not worry about everything. I wanted to learn about the time long lost.  
  
I wanted to fight.  
  
But I remember Nova screaming at me. I didn't know why, I didn't even realize.  
  
I didn't even see the Sentinel claw sticking out of my stomach.  
  
She was holding me up, with blood on her hands. I didn't even see that that was my blood.  
  
I remember barely hearing her, I don't know what she was saying, I wish I did. I wish I knew what happened after I closed my eyes. I wish the last thing I saw wasn't Nova's crying, bloody face, with Sentinels behind her. I wish I knew what happened to the others. I wish I had my weapon in my hand. I wish I died with it. I wish I had just another moment.  
  
Did Neo make it? Does Zion still stand? Did I do it? Was my life really worth all that? Did I die for a purpose? Did. . . Did I do it?  
  
That day I died like so many others, my body was lost in the many, covered by a fallen Sentinel. My weapon, with all its scrapes, and scratches to my right. I died looking up at the Sentinels. I died in the fires, and the deaths. I died fighting for Zion, fighting for The One. I died that day.  
  
No more running. I didn't, Flint, I didn't. I'd never run away again.  
  
I died not by running, not by hiding, but by fighting. 


End file.
